Differential Diagnosis: House Ficlets
by moonswirl
Summary: Pretty selfexplanatory. There will be eight in whole. Featured charactersships: Chase, Ducklings 2, HCuddy, HCam 3, CC.
1. Would I lie to you?

(So as a holiday thing, I've been writing ficlets for friends based on song lyrics. Though I'm far from being done with them, I decided to share ;) So hereare the House ones:))

"**Would I lie to you?"**

A "House" Ficlet – for Rai

Disclaimer: Not mine!

Info: PG, Chase (Also, I wrote this before the ep that actually depicted it...)

_By Moonie_

"I'm off for lunch. You two coming?" Dr. Foreman asked Chase and Cameron. Both looked up from the massive medical books sitting before them and making their eyes blurry. They looked to the clock, realizing that it was mid-afternoon and they still hadn't eaten despite being starving.

"Sure," said Cameron.

"Yeah," said Chase. Both stood just as the phone rang. Cameron looked to the others, then went to answer. The two men waited as she identified herself, then a moment later turned back.

"It's for you," she held out the receiver to Chase. He took it, signaling for them to go ahead.

"I'll meet you there."

"Okay," they agreed before leaving the room.

"Hello?"

Thirty minutes later, when Foreman and Cameron returned from lunch, they found the third of their team standing by the window, leaning with his arm against the frame.

"There you are. Why didn't you come?" Cameron asked. He didn't respond, still looking out. Looking back to Foreman briefly, she tried again. "Chase?" A few seconds of silence went by before he finally replied, without turning, speaking evenly.

"My father died, last night. The call…" He turned toward them. His face held a frail composure. Recovering from the momentary shock, Foreman and Cameron moved forward.

"Are you okay?" Foreman asked, as Cameron placed a hand on the grieving doctor's arm.

"I don't know. I'm not sure what to… We left things relatively okay when he left after his visit, but… I didn't even know there was anything wrong."

"What are you going to do?" Cameron asked.

"I've cleared some away time for the funeral, I just need to talk to House." It was barely five seconds later that the doctor in question limped on by.

"So, how are we doing with Foreman's theory?" he asked the group. An awkward silence set in before Chase responded.

"Can we talk… in private?" Perhaps picking up on the rush of emotions plaguing him, House didn't provide Chase with a remark, simply indicating his office. Chase went on ahead as House turned to the other two.

"I assume you're still looking, so why don't you do that." He started for his office, then turned back to Foreman and Cameron. "Look under 'P'." He walked into his office, closing the door and sitting across from Chase. "Now what's this all about?"

"I'm going away for a few days, to Australia for my father's funeral." This was one of very few times he could ever recall seeing House look kind of caught off guard.

"You just found out?" Chase nodded. "Sorry… for your loss."

"Thank you."

"So… go. I'll see you in a few days." With another nod, Chase stood and headed off, waving a goodbye through the glass walls to his colleagues.

A week went by, faster than any would think. Then one morning, the door opened and there was Chase, back at last.

"Hey," Cameron stood to greet him with a hug. "Welcome back."

"Thank you," he gave her a smile. Foreman stood next to come shake his hand.

The day went on, all noticing a certain quiet state in the returning Chase but not saying a word about it. The fact was he was in waiting for a particular moment. This came late in the day. Cameron was running tests in the lab, Foreman was on clinic duty, and House was working in his office.

Chase stopped just outside his door, walking in a moment later. House looked up, an expression that could have been interpreted as 'oh crap' face coming over him. "It's interesting the things you find out when you bury a family member. The things they may have failed to mention, the secrets…"

"Well, sure… Then no one can yell at you, can they?" House stood, coming to stand on the other side of the desk.

"Not a luxury of yours just now."

"And somewhere, I'm… not kicking myself. Confidentiality should be a familiar concept to you."

"And if it was your patient, sure. But this wasn't. This was my father," he worked not to raise his voice.

"What happened to not caring? Tell me, what would you have done with this information? Couldn't change anything…"

"I don't know, but I would have liked to have the choice."

"You have to imagine… maybe he didn't want you to have to see him waste away right before your eyes…" There was a pause, neither man speaking or really looking at the other. "The best thing you can do now is just go on with your life, keep working. It'll get easier." Picking up his cane, House walked past Chase, who was still processing everything. "This conversation stays between us."

the end.

up next: Ducklings abound!


	2. And it's a hard winter's day

"**And it's a hard winter's day"**

A "House" Ficlet – for Devon

Disclaimer: Not mine

Info: PG, Ducklings.

_By Moonie_

"There you are," Foreman greeted Cameron as she ran in, quickly discarding her jacket and bag and putting on gloves.

"I came as soon as I heard," she looked around at the chaos that had become the Princeton-Plainsboro ER.

"We've got people everywhere and probably more coming, gotta keep moving," he nodded to her as she went to attend to a woman on a stretcher. The day had been over. Many of them had gone to the comfort and warmth of their homes.

It hit the news at about 10:30PM – a building had ignited in flames, hundreds of people inside, many floors having collapsed as well. People had started being pulled out and shipped off to all hospitals in the area. The number of dead was already starting to build.

"Help us, please!" Cameron and Foreman looked back to find the cry had come from a woman in bad shape herself, hobbling in with a small girl in her arms.

"I got it," Cameron told Foreman as she went to them. Taking the child and leading the mother to the beds, Cameron saw Chase and Wilson working nearby. "Can someone take a look at her?" she asked them, indicated the mother as she placed the girl down.

"Go, I got it," Wilson told Chase.

"Right here," he walked with her to another nearby bed.

"What's her name?" Cameron asked the woman.

"Emma."

"Hey Emma, can you hear me?" she asked as she started looking her over.

"Yeah…" she could barely reply.

"That's good. I'm gonna take care of you, okay?"

"Careful…" Chase rushed to catch the woman as she started to fall forward. "She's unconscious!" he called. A nurse came forward to help him.

"Mommy…" Emma tried to look over.

"Emma, I need you to look at me," Cameron diverted her eyes away from the scene, making her focus elsewhere. "Everything's fine, you're safe," she assured her, taking her hand. She caught Chase's eye and he shook his head. She looked back to the tiny blonde in Winnie the Pooh PJs. "Do you know where your father is?"

"He's on a trip for work."

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Andy… Andy Malcolm."

"Okay, we'll get him here. I'm gonna take you somewhere, you're okay, you don't need to be here," she picked her up.

"What about my mom? Is she okay?"

"I don't know if…" Cameron hesitated as she headed for the children's ward.

"She's gone, isn't she?"

"I'm sorry…" Emma didn't speak the rest of the way. She was left with those who'd watch over her until her father arrived. After leaving her, Cameron had to take a moment to breathe.

"Cameron, motor!" she heard House call to her.

"Right," she followed.

By the doors, Wilson and a couple of nurses waited as paramedics unloaded a man whose leg had been crushed and amputated on site. It took a moment for him to realize he knew him.

"Mr. Cole?"

"Dr. Wilson…" he spoke weakly.

"You know him?" one of the nurses asked.

"He's one of my patients," he explained.

After being told about his situation, Wilson sent Mr. Cole off to surgery. Part of him wanted to follow, make sure he'd be okay, but there were still so many people in need of treatment. Everyone was doing their part and he had to do his. He made sure they'd call him with details of any changes and he got back to work. Still he couldn't get Mr. Cole off his mind. He'd been treating him for less than a year, but he'd come to know him while he'd treated his wife. She'd passed on now, but they still talked at least once a year. At Christmas Mr. Cole would send him a card and some small present. He wanted to be there for him, felt like he should.

"You okay?" Chase asked, passing by.

"Yeah," he cleared his throat, focusing again.

"How's it going over there?" Chase asked one of the paramedics as they moved back toward the exit.

"Still a mess, not sure how many are still stuck in there. It might come too late for some of them," he spoke grimly as he headed out.

Chase headed back toward the crowded area. A loud clanging noise followed by shouting drew his attention and he ran to the source. It was a woman, looking to be in her forties and not too pleased with being surrounded by all these people.

"Let go of me!" she insisted with the doctor trying to inject her with something. "I don't want this!"

"Ma'am, you need…"

"That's Mrs. Bradley to you, "Doc", now leave me alone!" The doctor stepped back with a sigh.

"Want me to try?" Chase asked him.

"Please," he walked back. The others left as well upon request.

"Thank you," the woman spoke carefully after a moment, not looking up at him.

"It's all right. How come you don't 'want this'?" he asked, coming over to check her vitals.

"I shouldn't… I should be… down in…" she struggled to go on.

"I'm sorry I don't understand."

"My ex-husband always said I was an oven's worst nightmare. I bet he and the new wife are just going to enjoy this… He's twisted enough to." What she was saying without actually saying it dawned on him a moment later – she'd started this.

"You shouldn't let yourself go untreated because of guilt."

"You think that'll cover it? 'Guilt'?" she laughed sarcastically. "I… I'm horrible. All those people out there – dead, dying… it's my fault. I deserve whatever comes my way, and being okay has no place in it."

"I can't just leave…" he spoke gently.

"I'll make you a deal. Get a cop here, then you can treat me," she finally nodded.

"Okay," Chase went into the hall. It was barely a minute, but when he returned she was gone. "Mrs. Bradley?" he looked around. "Have you seen the woman who was in there?" he asked a man in a chair back in the hall. He shook his head. "Damn it!" he ran off down the hall.

Hours later, what seemed like days, people stopped coming, the crowd thinned. Cameron was exhausted, drained, but she stopped by the children's ward. Looking in through the window he saw Emma was with her father, doing okay considering what had happened.

On her way out, she found Wilson standing outside. "You should go home, sleep."

"Yeah, I just…" he looked to her for a second and the look on his face drew her concern.

"What happened?"

"Patient of mine, he was in there. He didn't make it."

"I'm sorry."

"I just keep thinking… the last few years, his life and his world were ruled by cancer. First it was his wife, then him. And then this fire comes, and it takes him…" Not sure what to say, Cameron reached into her pocket, pulling out a small pack of vending machine cookies.

"Here," she handed them to him. "You need them more than I do." He accepted them with a small smile.

"Thank you."

"Nights like these… Sometimes I wonder what's missing from my life. I just feel like I should do more, you know? Get a hobby, a pet… Yesterday everything was fine, now it's over, so sudden. The number makes it all so much more real."

Looking to the side, Cameron and Wilson spotted Chase walking out as well. He seemed even more worn and torn. "Hey… I kind of lost sight of you in there after a while, where'd you go?"

"Patient ran off had to find her. She… the fire started in her apartment. She didn't want to be treated and I turned my back for a second…"

"Did you find her?" Wilson asked.

"They pulled her out of the river, she jumped… They got her in time, she'll make it. I shouldn't have left, I knew…"

"You can't control it all…" Cameron assured him.

"This shouldn't have happened, it wouldn't…"

"With everything going through her mind…" Wilson added.

"We'll take you home, I can stay…"

"Yes on the ride, but you don't have to stay. I'll be fine, I promise."

"How about a drink first?" They turned to find Foreman joining them.

"Not on an empty stomach…" Wilson pointed out.

"Great, we can eat too."

"Works for me," Cameron nodded as the four headed to the cars, facing the new morning.

the end.

up next: House/Cuddy


	3. Yeah we're careful and we're cunning

"**Yeah we're careful and we're cunning but we're easily bruised"**

A "House" Ficlet – for Janetmaca

Disclaimer: Not mine

Info: PG, House/Cuddy.

_By Moonie_

"Tell me!" Dr House's voice could be heard from outside Cuddy's office.

"Oh, grow up House!" her voice could also be heard.

"Did I miss the memo on the aging process? I don't control that… yet."

"And there you go again!"

"The kid needs this treatment or he'll die. Do you really want that on your conscience?"

"There are other options! You can't put him through all these treatments, his body can't take it!" They paused at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Turning to look, they found a nurse at the door, as well as others looking in from various nearby areas.

"I'm sorry, Dr Cuddy… People are starting to complain…" the nurse explained. Cuddy sighed.

"Find another way, House. I can't approve your present plan of action." After a moment, House swiveled about and started out of Cuddy's office with thumping sounds from his feet and cane. Cuddy sat back in her chair with a groan, rubbing at her forehead.

She hadn't often gotten down to joining in on House's screaming matches, but lately she seemed to fall prey to it more and more. As time went by, her ability to bypass his attempts to rattle her was growing weaker. She didn't know what to make of it, whether she'd had too much of it… not enough?

She knew that with House there was always a needed level of tolerance that rivaled the most tense of situations. Up until now, she'd been good to hold her own with him. The change came so subtly she hadn't noticed it. She imagined it might have been part of the reason.

She knew he was getting to her, and she didn't know how else to protect herself than to match his rantings. For all the knowledge she had, this was one thing she couldn't find a 'treatment' for.

Throughout the day, she pushed her worries to the side, focused on her work. She'd made it through the day. When she stepped out of her office, House was sitting and waiting. She sighed, approached.

"What now?" He indicated the seat next to him. After a moment, she did so.

"I'm getting this feeling like something's bothering you."

"Gee, I wonder why," she feigned puzzlement.

"Don't get me wrong, I like our arguments. It keeps me on my toes." She rolled her eyes a bit at this, but remained quiet. "Lately though, I've noticed they've been… well, different."

"Different how?" she asked, curious to hear his take on it.

"Well, I'm concerned. These volleys used to be harmless. If we keep at it, people will get hurt and I'm not talking about either of us. There has to be some way to resolve this that doesn't involve us losing our jobs, our licenses…"

"What about the Clinic?"

"It has its moments…" She smiled briefly to herself.

"I see your point," she admitted. "So what to do…" They were silent for a moment. Eventually, Cuddy stood.

"Where are you going?" House asked.

"I am going to get a drink. Want to come? We can map out some kind of peace treaty."

"Are you trying to get me drunk?"

"House…"

"Going to have your way with me?"

"Please."

"I smell a lawsuit…"

"Last chance expires in five, four, three…"

"Alright, alright," he stood. "You're so pushy when you think."

"I'm buying."

"I'm shutting up."

Soon after, they sat side by side at a bar, with a glass each. "So… we need a solution. See, this is the part where we go for differential diagnosis. I don't have a…" he looked around. "Barkeep," he called, to Cuddy's dismay. "Mind if I borrow your chalk board there? It's for medical purposes." A short moment of arguing later, the board and a few chalk sticks were between them flat on the bar. "Let's hear some symptoms."

"Jerk?" she guessed.

"Ah," he tilted his head, writing down the word. "This will go well, I see it already."

For some time, they filled out the board with issues and thoughts. When they stopped, they took a moment to read back. It was a little more fun than it should have been, for sure.

"Wow…" House spoke first.

"It's a miracle we co-exist at all," Cuddy commented.

"I would perhaps suggest we try for… a clean slate?" Cuddy looked to him.

"I think it might be worth a shot."

"Hey, we're agreeing already!"

2


End file.
